American Revenant (Book 3): The Monster In Man

by John L. Davis IV

  Every movement was swift and efficient, and Jan had the knee iced, braced, and the leg bound in a splint within minutes. Throughout everything the other men had been explaining to her what happened in the concrete ditch as they were watching the armory.

  “So you guys are certain that these people are the same ones that somehow got zombies through the woods and close enough to where our crew was working to draw them in, as well as shooting up our guard shack, surprisingly without killing anyone.”

  “No doubt, Mom. I recognized the pickup as the same one that drove by several times, as well as shooting at us. The VW Bug that Arianna stole was there too. It’s got to be how they know we’re here.”

  Jan stood at the small cabinet where she kept the strongest drugs she had available to her. Staring at the paltry supply she understood that just this one severe injury could deplete her stores drastically, possibly leaving her without medication strong enough to alleviate anything worse than a mild headache.

  She took a single dose ampoule down from the shelf and a syringe from a box underneath. Gordy barely noticed the prick of the needle as it entered his arm. He sighed as the drug hit his system, removing the worst of the teeth from the creature that was eating its way through his knee.

  “He’s going to be out for a little while with that. I need to get that swelling down some before I can inspect and diagnose it. If he starts to breathe funny let me know. It wasn’t a large dose, but you can’t be too careful with that stuff. Let me check you guys over and we can figure out what to do from there.”

  Jan’s face was drawn, already exhausted from the emotional strain of seeing her husband being pulled from the car much the same way as her son had been. She worked quickly, with little talk, other than to ask about cuts and abrasions.

  She examined Dean’s thumbs closely, going so far as to use a small magnifying glass to look them over. She finished with the exam, but did not release his hands immediately. She held on to her youngest son’s hands, drawing on both his strength and the comfort they gave.

  Dean leaned in close, his forehead resting against hers and said, “He’s stronger than anyone could ever imagine, Mom. He’ll be fine, especially with you taking care of him.”

  Jan’s chest hitched once and again before she took a deep breath, gathering herself together. She would take time to cry later, when someone was not immediately dependent on her. “I know, baby. You guys go, get some food and rest. Let everyone know that there’s nothing to worry about, no one was infected. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  Chapter 8

  For the sake of keeping a close eye on their food stores the council opted to continue communal meal times until enough food was being produced, hunted or scavenged that running out was no longer a concern.

  Lynn had asked for and been given the council position of Food and Rationing. Immediately people began calling her the Food Czar, a term she despised, which meant that her brothers Calvin and Dean used it mercilessly.

  “Morning, Sis, I’m heading out to do a quick patrol through town, you want me to take some food to Becca and Louis?”

  “I thought Garret was on duty this morning.”

  “He is; I’m giving him a ride down there. Louis will be coming up, but Becca will probably head back home to wake Dean up. Figure I can take them some food and spare them the trip up here, they can eat and go get some sleep.”

  “Wow, Cal, I’m beginning to think you may actually have a heart in there,” she said, wearing a lopsided grin.

  “You may be right, Lynnie, but if I don’t get something to eat I may just waste away, then what happens to my wonderful heart? Huh, tell me that?” he said, grinning back at her.

  “You don’t need more food,” Lynn said, poking him in his significantly decreased belly.

  Calvin picked up the bag of food Lynn had placed on the table for him and threw a fist up in mock salute. “Yes, Food Czar!” He backed through the door, laughing when he heard Lynn shout “Jerkface!” as the door closed behind him.

  “What was all that about?” Garret asked, taking the bag of food from Cal as he climbed into the old Dodge pickup.

  “Just giving Lynn a hard time. It’s easy to do and always worth a laugh. I mean, what else are younger sisters for right?”

  Garret chuckled, “Yeah, I guess so.”

  Calvin thought for a moment before asking, “You have any brothers or sisters before all this went down?”

  “Nope, only child. Dad died four years ago, well, I guess it would be five now.” Garret’s voice was steady as he said it, making Calvin wonder.

  “Man, I’m sorry Garret.”

  “It’s ok. I saw him maybe twice a year, if that. Kind of hard to get to know someone when they only stop in to see you when it’s convenient.”

  Garret’s reply answered the question that Calvin wanted to ask.

  Calvin drove slowly in the low light of early dawn, watching along the rows of empty homes for anything that shouldn’t be there.

  “I can’t believe how much of the wall you guys got done the other day,” Calvin said to change the subject.

  “Yeah, just a few hundred more feet and it’ll be done.”

  “Good, I think that’ll help everyone to feel a bit safer, at least those that are still staying at the camp. You plan on moving into a house?”

  Garret did not reply immediately, considering his answer. “Louis and I have talked about sharing a place, but I’m not so sure. I might, I don’t know yet. The Cambrey house is nice, and everyone pretty much stays out of everyone else’s way.”

  Calvin, unsure how to respond, made the right turn onto Highway E in silence. He pulled to a stop behind the tiny guard house, and stepped out of the car.

  Louis poked his head out and waved. “Morning guys.”

  Calvin held the bag of food up. “Morning Louis, hungry?”

  “Better be some for me in there, I’m starving!”

  All heads turned to see Rebecca walking toward them from the house that sat less than fifty feet from the corner where they had built the bridge.

  “Brought enough for everybody, I promise.”

  Rebecca walked up to Calvin, taking the bag from him. “Thanks, Cal. Hi Garret. Morning Louie, Louie.”

  Rebecca pulled her ever-present and always changing ball-cap back and stuck her face into the plastic bag of food, inhaling deeply. “Ahhhh, smells good. Never could turn down powdered eggs, precooked bacon, and toast made from homemade bread.” Though she made light of the meal, Rebecca always enjoyed the food Lynn prepared.

  Louis stepped out of the shack, reaching for the bag of still-hot food when it exploded in Rebecca’s hands.

  They were taken completely by surprise, the shots not registering for several seconds. Calvin dropped straight to the ground, realizing that he had left his M4 carbine in the truck. Rebecca dropped the shreds of the bag, and turned toward the house. She cried out and continued turning in a full spin before falling into the shallow ditch.

  Louis screamed, falling face first to the roadway, low crawling toward the direction that Rebecca had fallen.

  Fully automatic weapon fire continued to rattle and pop from the direction of Highway 79. Calvin was pushing himself backward over the blacktop, toward the truck, while keeping eyes front, watching for whoever was firing at them. He saw Garret jerk backward and fall, clutching at his stomach.

  Through the pipe slats of the upright cattle guard Calvin saw a pickup truck which had stopped at the end of the road, roughly two hundred yards from the drawbridge. He could just make out several people standing in the back of the truck, possibly two others standing beside the vehicle.

  “Becca! Becca!”

  Calvin glanced to his right, to see Dean charging out of the house, protected by the wall but coming quickly toward the open area near the guard shack.

  It looked as if Dean had woken at the first sound of gunfire, grabbed his rifle and went for the door. Calvin thought “No Shirt, No Shoes, No Gunfight” an
d almost laughed. He could feel hysteria beginning to creep up on him.

  Dean made it to the ditch, dropping down beside Rebecca. He examined her shoulder, dismayed to see so much blood. “Becca, babe, you ok?”

  “Don’t call me ‘babe’, damn it, how many times do I have to tell you that. Go help, hurts like a bitch, but I’m ok. Go.”

  Dean hesitated for half a second, unable to draw himself away from his wounded fiancée. She smiled; he nodded and began to low crawl toward the fallen Garret.

  Shots cracked from behind him, causing him to jerk his rifle around, fearing that whoever this was they had somehow gotten people in to flank them. Calvin leaned around the open door of the truck, beginning to fire back at their assailants.

  Dean made it to Garret, could see the bright red bloom on the front of the boy’s shirt, and the slow rise of his chest. “Hang in there Garret, we’ll get you out of here.” The boy moaned, as if in reply, but it was obvious to Dean that Garret had passed out in shock.

  He turned his rifle toward the men shooting from the truck and began to return fire. He breathed deep, trying not to rush his shots, but his heart was beating so hard that he was finding it difficult to steady his weapon.

  “Fuck it,” he said aloud, and began pulling the trigger, controlling it to the best of his ability. He could still hear his brother firing from behind him.

  Dean wanted to shout a warcry when he saw one of the men in the truck bed go down. The others dropped into the bed, both men standing outside the truck quickly climbing back inside. Dean and Calvin continued firing even as the truck fishtailed back onto the highway, disappearing within seconds.

  Dean turned to Garret, lifting his shirt to examine the wound in his abdomen. Calvin came running up, a first aid kit in hand.

  Dean was tearing open a large gauze pad to use as a compress when he heard tires squalling on pavement. He turned to see two vehicles barreling down on their position. The De Soto screeched to a halt ten feet away, with another old pickup right behind it. Mike and Rick came out of the lead car fast and low, staying behind the wide open doors with rifles up.

  Alex and Daniel slid out of truck, both armed and watching the area all around them.

  “Where are they?” Mike called.

  “Gone,” Dean called back, “one truck, with a bunch of guys. They took off when we hit one of them.”

  The new arrivals to the scene walked forward, weapons at low ready, expecting another surprise attack. Rebecca stood up in the dry ditch, clutching her bleeding shoulder. Rick rushed over, but she waved him away, claiming that she was fine.

  “Do we know who it was?” Rick asked.

  “It didn’t look like the same truck as before, but I’m pretty damn sure it was the same people. Listen, we can talk about this later, Garret’s hit bad. Help me get him into the truck and you guys take him to Mom.”

  The men gathered around Garret, lifting him as gently as they could, but causing the semi-conscious boy make low noises of pain in his throat. Alex and Daniel took Garret and Rebecca back to camp, while the others remained behind, keeping watch.

  The rest of the men stood silently watching as the truck pulled away. Dean was the first to break the silence.

  “We have to do something about these assholes, and now, before they do anymore damage.”

  The others nodded, even Louis, who just then felt the rapidly cooling wet patch at the front of his jeans. He glanced up at the others, his face blushing several shades of red before he spun on his heel and ran for the house.

  “Let him go,” Mike said to the others, “we have bigger things to worry about than some kid’s ego. What are you suggesting, Dean?”

  “All of us, with Jimmy and Alex, take the fight to them. We can’t sit around waiting for them to hit us again, hoping we take out one or two when they do.”

  “I agree, Dean,” Rick said, looking directly at him, “but we have to be smart about this. We can’t just storm their little castle and hope to come out on top. We don’t know if we saw every member of that group. They could have eight men, or eighty, we just don’t know. What we do know is, they have automatic weapons and we don’t. There’s no telling what other weapons or ordnance they may have found in that place.”

  “Ok, ok, I get it. Waiting is a bad idea though. We need to move, tonight if possible.”

  “Let’s take this to Dad,” Calvin said, “get his opinion on the situation. We need to get Jimmy and Alex involved as well.”

  “Calvin, you mind waiting here? We’ll send Daniel, and someone else, down to take over guard duty.”

  “Sure, Rick. I’ll be here waiting, just tell them to hurry.”

  “Will do, keep your eyes open.”

  Dean, Mike and Rick piled into the De Soto and headed back to Oko Tipi.

  Chapter 9

  “We can’t deal with these kinds of injuries, damn it! I don’t have half the supplies I need to get in there and make sure nothing major was torn apart. Even if I could, I don’t have a sterile environment to work in, or the antibiotics to fight off anything but the mildest infection!”

  Jan’s voice continued to rise. She stormed around the large room of the main meeting hall, fuming about the attacks and injuries.

  Looking from Dean to Calvin, she said, “Your Dad’s knee is shot. I’m almost certain it needs surgical attention to repair it properly. It’s not life threatening in the immediate sense, but it won’t heal properly. He won’t walk again, not without help, or he’ll need a wheelchair. If he can’t walk, he can’t run, if he can’t run…” She was unable to finish the thought, dreading the future for a man that couldn’t run in the world they now inhabited.

  “Jan, we have two situations, both dire. You need medical supplies and medicine, the real stuff, not scavenged home meds. We also have a group of nutbags who are more than willing to come after us or anyone else without thinking twice about it.”

  “Make your point, Mike,” Jan said, scowling.

  “We need to prioritize, remove the threat to everyone before we can even think about trying for the medical stuff.”

  Jan opened her mouth as if she were about to start yelling, at Mike and everyone. Her eyes began to shimmer as her mouth slowly closed. She looked defeated, her will to shout deflating with her spirit, as she resigned herself to losing yet another life.

  “Do what you need to do,” she told the assembled group. “I’m not sure how long I can keep Garret alive, but I’ll do what I can. I have to get back over there. Let me know when you guys are planning on leaving.” She walked slowly to the door, leaving without looking back.

  Rick turned to those remaining behind, including Rebecca, Tam, and Lisa. The cold stares from the women told him everything he needed to know about their thoughts on the subject.

  Mike spoke up, breaking the uncomfortable quiet. “We have to do this. No one will be safe as long as these pricks keep running around popping off shots,” he said, looking at Lisa, but speaking to everyone.

  “We know what has to be done, Mike,” Tam told him, “doesn’t mean we have to like it.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” Lisa glared at her husband, as if expecting him to argue.

  “Do you want to go?” he asked.

  She continued to stare for a moment before responding. “I don’t want anyone to go, but I’m not stupid enough to think we can turtle up and be safe. That just means we’re waiting to die. Go, get it done and come home.”

  “This isn’t going to be a run-and-gun kind of deal. I just want everyone to know that. We may be out all night, possibly two. We have to set up somewhere, a sort of base camp, go in slow, maybe even use guerrilla tactics to lower their numbers a bit. That’s after we take time to recon the area.” Rick stopped, taking time to briefly look every person in the eye, to impress upon them the seriousness of the mission. “This isn’t going to be easy, and everyone needs to realize that, right now.”

  The room was silent, no one wanting to speak, fearing they would scream, or cry,
or worse, say they had changed their mind, did not want to go.

  After a long, uncomfortable minute Dean said, “Ok, then. Let’s figure out a plan and get moving.” Though he tried, he was unable to avoid Rebecca’s hard look, and it made him squirm uncomfortably.

  Over the next hour the entire group assembled in the main hall, women included, went over plans for the mission. They devised and revised as each person made suggestions, until they felt that they had a solid, viable plan of action in place.

  Rick stood up, stretching, “I’m going to spend a little time with Trish and Tyler. Everyone meet back in here in an hour.”

  Those with families, children, took the opportunity to enjoy some time just throwing a ball, or talking and laughing, several stood on the ball field with bows, practicing archery together.

  Those leaving for the mission tried their hardest not to let fear and apprehension ruin the time. Those being left behind soaked in the moments spent together, hoping they wouldn’t be the last.

  Chapter 10

  The six men comprising the assault group took several hours to get to a small house at the end of Parkview Drive. After consulting local maps, they felt that the house would be the wisest choice as a jumping off point for their operation. Vehicles were left miles away, the men walking, using the surrounding woods and landscape to reach their destination unseen.

  The men did not delude themselves into thinking that they could begin and end this easily. The only member of their group with combat experience would be on top of the mental health building directly across the highway from the armory, acting as overwatch, providing long range fire support.

  The house they now huddled in, waiting for dusk, was close enough to the main road to allow them easy access while large patches of trees helped to screen them from view.

  The battle group took only minutes to clear the house, easily killing the one zombie they found in the kitchen. The corpse was set outside, behind some thickly overgrown shrubbery.